Still curiosity, or a desire to take his mind off the miseries by which it was beset, prevailed, and he did open the envelope and read.

It ran thus: "Ah! my little friend, my godson in the speerit, Godfrey "I daresay you thought that poor old Madame was dead, gone to join the Celestials, because you have not heard from her for so long a while.

Not a bit, my little Godfrey, though perhaps I should not call you little, since my crystal shows me that you have grown taller even than you were in the old days at Lucerne, and much broader, quite a good-made man and nice to look at.

Well, my Godfrey, I hear things about you sometimes, for the most part from the speerit called Eleanor who, I warn you, has a great bone to pick with you.

Because, you see, people do not change so much as you think when they get to the other side.